


2199 Days

by wanheda_two_heda



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Angst, Babysitting, Canon Compliant, Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, Legally Blonde AU, Mutual Pining, Pining, Reunion Fic, Roommates, season 5 speculation, vet!clarke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-03-01 11:50:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13294266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanheda_two_heda/pseuds/wanheda_two_heda
Summary: This is just a collection of short fics from Tumblr prompts





	1. Looking Good & Feline Good

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill for endlesslyfangirl-ing based on [this post](https://endlesslyfangirl-ing.tumblr.com/post/169402439051/chancellor-reyes-sweetheartsandsweetdreams) by chancellor-reyes
> 
> "My Uncle used to take care of all the stray cats in his neighborhood and since he passed there’s like 14 stray cats living under his house. And we’re taking them to the shelter this week, but there’s this really old raggedy one missing an ear and I have decided to take him home."

“Bellamy Blake?” the receptionist says.

“Yes?” He stands up, bringing the cat carrier he borrowed from Octavia with him.

“You can go around the corner to exam room one, and the vet will be with you in a moment,” she instructs.

He’s never had a pet, not even while growing up, so he’s never had a reason to go to the vet. He hadn’t expected it to be so much like his own doctor’s office. He goes in the direction that the receptionist indicated, and room one is the first on his right. The door is open, and he walks in, putting the carrier on the counter. 

A woman with curly blonde hair walks in wearing a white lab coat over sky blue scrubs.  _ Dr. Griffin _ is embroidered over the breast. She looks more like she belongs in a hospital than in a vet clinic, but what does he know.

“Hi, I’m Clarke,” she says, coming over to shake his hand. 

“Bellamy,” he says with a smile, struggling to keep his eyes on hers instead of checking her out. She’s attractive, and he’s only human. Sue him.

“Nice to meet you, Bellamy. And who do we have here?” she asks, moving to open the cat carrier.

“Careful,” he says, stopping her with a hand over hers. They both pause, and he notices a flush come up Clarke’s chest before she pulls away and ducks her head. He runs his hand through his hair. “Sorry. It’s just that… Erebus is kind of a dick.”

She laughs. “I’ve seen my fair share of asshole cats,” she assures him. “I’m sure you’ll be glad to know that Erebus probably isn’t any different. 

She walks over to the counter behind her and grabs a few treats out of a jar. Coming back to Bellamy and Erebus, she places the treats in front of the cat carrier and opens the door. 

“Just ignore him,” she tells Bellamy. “Let’s just chat. What brings you guys in today?”

Bellamy tells her about the fourteen cats he and Octavia found lurking under his uncle’s porch after the man had passed away, that they later found out he’d been feeding the strays and that fourteen cats needed new homes. They’d taken thirteen of them to the shelter, but Bellamy had found a sort of kinship with the fourteenth. He’d brought him to the vet because Erebus won’t stop howling in the middle of the night and refuses to eat. It’s been worrying Bellamy. 

Erebus sticks his head out of the carrier once he thinks that his owner and the vet are distracted, and Clarke chuckles when she gets her first look at the black cat, with only his left ear and right eye.

“I don’t know if he’s a dick because he got beat up by a bunch of cats or if he got beat up by a bunch of cats because he’s a dick,” Bellamy says.

Clarke laughs again, and it’s such a light, carefree sound. He wants to hear it over and over again. She reaches out to pet the cat and Erebus hisses. 

“Oh, hush,” Clarke says, scooping the cat up into her arms without a care. 

To Bellamy’s surprise, Erebus actually cuddles against Clarke’s neck and purrs, a first for him. 

“I guess my cat likes you, too,” Bellamy says.

“Too?” Clarke asks, eyebrow raised.

Bellamy just smirks in response. She rolls her eyes, and it’s in that moment that Bellamy realizes just how screwed he is.

Clarke assures him that Erebus is just fine and that he’ll start eating and sleeping like a normal cat once he knows that he’s safe with Bellamy and that his new home starts to feel like that--home. 

“It would be a lot easier if you were there,” Bellamy says with a wink. “I mean, seeing how much Erebus likes you and all.”

“Erebus does, huh?” she challenges, but she smiles.

Once the cat is back in his carrier and Clarke has repeated the care instructions she wants him to follow, Bellamy is ready to leave. Before Clarke exits the room through the back door, though, he stops her.

“Can I--I mean, uh, do you--”

“Want to let you buy me a coffee? I’m off at six.” And with a flirtatious smile, she’s gone, leaving Bellamy and Erebus both feeling the weight of her absence.

“You might not be such a dick after all,” Bellamy says to the carrier in his hand.

* * *

 

“I don’t usually do this,” Clarke says against his mouth as they’re sitting on his couch, his hand tangled in her hair while some movie neither of them are really watching drones in the background.

“Make out with your patients’ owners?” Bellamy says and nips at her lower lip.

“Make out with my patients’ owners after the first date,” she says, and her smile is teasing when he registers what she’s just said.

“How many of your patients’ owners have you made out with?” he asks with a raised brow.

“So far?” she asks, swinging her leg over his lap to straddle him. “Just you.”

“Good,” he says, his hands finding her hips while she leans in for another kiss. “Because I’d really like to keep doing this.”

Before she can answer, Erebus hops up onto the couch and hisses at Bellamy before rubbing against Clarke’s thigh and purring happily. She pats his head, and he leans into it.

“Dick,” Bellamy says fondly.

“Jealous that you’re not getting all the attention?” 

“Yes, actually,” he says, and he knows that his eyes are soft when he looks up at her. He’s so far gone, and it’s all the stupid cat’s fault.

She pecks his mouth quickly. “I like that.”


	2. Jealous Much?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fic prompt: Can you please write a modern AU Bellarke fic where Clarke and Roan are getting really close and more touchy feel-y. Bellarke are best friends and Bellamy gets hella jealous, brooding and avoidance ensue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For sweetheartsandsweetdreams on Tumblr

“You want another drink?” Miller asks him as he downs the rest of his rum and Coke.

Bellamy just glares across the bar at where Clarke is chatting with Roan, laughing with her hand on his arm as he says something that probably isn’t even all that funny.

“Nah, I’m good.”

“You know, if you’d just tell her that you like her, you wouldn’t have to watch her flirt with other guys.”

“It’s not that it’s other guys, it’s that it’s  _ Roan King _ ,” he says like the name tastes bad as it rolls off his tongue. 

“Whatever,” Miller laughs. “You're hopeless. I'm getting another drink.”

As he walks away, Clarke wraps her arm around Roan’s bicep and drags him towards the booth where Bellamy is sitting. Roan leans down to whisper something in her ear, and she laughs, swatting at his shoulder. 

“Bell!” Clarke croons happily when she reaches him. She stumbles, and both Bellamy and Roan reach out to steady her. 

“Think you've had enough for tonight?” he asks, and it comes out sharper than he means it to. Roan shoots him a look. “What?” Bellamy snaps. 

“What the fuck, Bellamy?” Clarke asks, pulling away from Roan and closer to her best friend. “What's gotten into you tonight?”

“Nothing,” he says, standing up and forcing her to step back, bumping into Roan’s chest. “I'm just tired. I'm gonna go home.”

“I'll come with you,” she says, completely oblivious to how he just desperately wants to get away from her. “I should go anyway. I work early tomorrow.”

“Let Roan walk you home,” Bellamy says flippantly. 

“Bellamy?” For a second, he hates himself for the hurt he sees in her wide eyes. 

“We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” he sighs. 

“Come on, Princess. Let’s go,” Roan says, wrapping his arm around Clarke’s waist. 

Bellamy shoves past them. “Her name is Clarke,” he hisses.

* * *

 

He wakes the next morning with a pounding headache. His mouth tastes like the inside of a trash can, and his neck is kinked from sleeping awkwardly. He remembers walking home angry at Clarke and just wanting to sleep and forget about it. But he hadn't been able to stop thinking long enough to fall asleep, and then Miller had come home giggling and laughing with Monty all the way to Miller’s room, so Bellamy had gotten up to find the bottle of tequila he keeps stashed in the cupboard above the sink for occasions such as realizing that your best friend will never love you the way you love her. 

The inside of his head throbs as he bends to grab the can of coffee ground out of the fridge. Miller rounds the corner, yawning, as Bellamy makes his way over to the coffee maker in the corner of their kitchen. 

“Clarke’s looking for you,” Miller calls without a greeting after he’s dropped onto the couch.

“Don’t care,” Bellamy calls back, pointedly ignoring the tightness in his chest that tells him that he does care; he cares a lot.

Miller sits up to glare into the kitchen. “Dude. Just call her. Text her. Go see her. She’s blowing up my phone, and it’s getting annoying.”

“What if I don’t want to talk to her?”

“Bellamy,” Miller deadpans. “Let’s ignore that you’re in love with her for a second, and just focus on the fact that she’s your best friend. She’s worried about you. If the situation was reversed, and she’d stormed out of the bar, pissed at you, you’d be freaking out about her.”

“She’s with Roan. I know she’s fine.”

Miller groans and drops backwards onto the couch. “You’re fucking useless, you know that? She didn’t even leave with Roan. He put her in and Uber and went back into the bar to basically dry hump Echo on the dance floor. Call. Her.”

* * *

 

He looked up from his laptop at the sound of someone knocking on his door.

“Can I come in?” Clarke asks, letting herself in before he even answers and shutting the door behind her.

“What’s up?” he asks, taking his glasses off to look at her. 

She’s wearing an ArkU spirit jersey and sweatpants. This is his favorite Clarke: the one who looks so comfortable and at home in his apartment, in his space, like she belongs there. As far as he’s concerned, she does. Their friends will be showing up soon for their weekly movie night, but right now, Miller is out with Monty getting snacks, and no one else has shown up yet, so it’s just the two of them. She lets herself drop onto the corner of his bed but doesn’t look at him.

He swallows, still mad, and it makes him hate himself. He doesn’t have a reason to be mad at Clarke. She’s not his, and he’s got no say in who she flirts with, or who she goes home with, or how she acts when she’s at the bar, but he’s mad. He’s mad because it’s easier to be mad at her than to admit his feelings for her.

“What’s up?” he asks, trying for casual, but completely missing the mark.

“I messed up,” she says, her head ducked. It hurts him to see her looking so sad.

“Clarke--” he says, but she cuts him off.

“No, let me say this. I’m sorry, Bell. I know I was pretty drunk at the bar last Friday, but that doesn’t excuse what I did. I should have realized that nothing is more important than our friendship.” 

“Wow,” he says with a chuckle. “Roan was that bad, huh?”

He means it as a joke, knows that she went home alone, but Clarke’s face changes from hurt, to dismay, to anger before she stands up and storms to the door. She spins on her heel to face him after she’d wrenched the door open. 

“I wanted to have a serious conversation with you about something important, but if you’re just going to make fun of everything, then there’s really no point.”

Bellamy sets his laptop down as she storms from the room and chases down the hall after her. “Clarke!” he calls when she rounds the corner into his living room and out of view.

“Hey!” calls an overly excited voice just before Bellamy comes face to face with Jasper. Miller, Monty, and Raven file in after him. 

“Look who I found at the grocery store,” Miller grumbles with an eye roll.

“You don’t mean that, Miller,” Jasper shoots back, everyone completely oblivious to the tension between Bellamy and Clarke, who is planted firmly across the room and glaring at him. “Everyone knows that movie night isn’t as fun when I’m not here to offer a running commentary.”

Bellamy sighs, looks away from Clarke, and walks over to ruffle Jasper’s hair, pulling him into a mock chokehold. “No one ever said that, Jordan.”

Jasper pushes away from Bellamy’s side. “Everyone thinks it, though,” he says, brushing the wrinkles out of his shirt.

“Clarke!” Raven says as she joins the madness starting in the Blake/Miller living room. “It’s your turn to pick the movie. What are we watching?”

“I’m not in the mood to pick, tonight,” Clarke says with an air of sadness that Bellamy can’t help but feel responsible for. “Let Jasper pick or something.”

“Yes!” the boy cheers.

“No way,” Octavia says, letting the front door slam shut in her wake. “Hey big brother.” She wraps her arms around Bellamy, and he hugs her back. When she pulls away, she turns to the group. “Jasper doesn’t get to pick. There is no way that we’re all watching Titanic again. We all know how gross and snotty Clarke gets when you make us sit through that.”

“I do not,” Clarke says, just as Bellamy says, “She’s not gross!”

The room falls silent and everyone looks around, not knowing where to look, and most of them settle on staring at the floor until Monty speaks up.

“I’m deciding. We’re watching Daddy’s Home because I haven’t seen it.”

Nobody seems ready to protest. Jasper smiles and sidles up to Bellamy.

“Oh,” he says with a grin, “we all know  _ daddy’s _ home, especially since Bellamy decided to grow a beard.”

Bellamy’s friends groan and Jasper’s terrible humor. Octavia shoves up. “What the fuck, Jasper. That’s my brother,” she says, sticking her tongue out in exaggerated disgust.

“Doesn’t mean he can’t be daddy as fuck, right Clarke?” he says.

Clarke glares at him and turns to go into the kitchen. “I’m gonna go get snacks ready,” she says.

Raven and Miller both turn to look pointedly at Bellamy. “Go,” Raven mouths.

He sighs, but follows Clarke into the kitchen. She’s got his back to him, pulling bowls out of his corner cupboard with all the comfort and familiarity of someone who’s lived there for years.

“I’m a dick, and I’m sorry,” he says, leaning against the door frame.

“Whatever, Bellamy.” Clarke doesn’t turn to look at him as she pulls a jar of salsa from the fridge.

“Not whatever. Talk to me, Clarke,” he says, coming up behind her. “I’m sorry I acted like an ass at the bar the other night, and I’m sorry that I didn’t text you back right away. I was stupid.”

“And?” she prompts.

“And I’m sorry I made fun of Roan’s dick,” he says, because he never claimed to be mature all of the time, and stupid jokes are the only way he’s going to be able to cope with how this conversation feels like it’s going to end with him revealing his feelings for her.

“Bellamy--” She turns, angry.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” he says, catching her wrists and bringing her hands down from their exasperated gesture. “I’m sorry I keep acting like a five year old every time you want to talk.”

“I’m sorry, too,” she says, resting her head on his shoulder as he holds her hands loosely by her sides. She pulls out of his grasp and instead twines their fingers together. “I did something stupid, and I’m sorry.”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “It was just me being a jealous dick.”

“Bellamy,” she says, talking over him. “I already feel stupid for having to say this, and I’m embarrassed as hell, so just fucking let me apologize for using Roan to try to make you jealous!”

Both of them step away from each other suddenly, their hands falling to their sides. Clarke’s face is flushed, and Bellamy is certain that he looks the same.

“Did you just--” he tries.

“It worked?” she says, incredulous.

Bellamy laughs, a loud, genuine sound. “You were trying to make me jealous?”

She takes a step towards him, their chests almost touching. “It worked, didn’t it?” she asks, smug as she tips her head back to look up at him.

His hand slides against her jaw, his fingers burying themselves in her hair, and he holds her face up to his. “All you had to do was say something,” he laughs. “You didn’t have to get all cozy with Roan King to tell me you like me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that you liked me back. We could have avoided all of this, you know,” Clarke says, her voice quiet.

She slips her arms around his neck and pulls him down to her. Bellamy doesn’t need any more insistence before he closes the distance between them and captures her lips in a slow, exploring kiss.

They jump apart at the sound of a fist banging on the wall. “Guys!” Miller calls. “Let’s go! I want to watch this movie before my next birthday!”

Clarke laughs and stretches up on the tips of her toes to steal another quick kiss. “Wanna skip movie night this week?” she asks, biting her lip.

Bellamy smiles. “Thought you’d never ask.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a prompt? Come find me on [Tumblr](http://youleftme-clarke.tumblr.com/)!


	3. Wake Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fic prompt: [text] Hey, are you up? If not, can you wake up? I need some help.
> 
> In which Clarke is babysitting and needs Bellamy to come over in the middle of the night to help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only 88 days left until season 5!

At first, Bellamy thinks that the constant buzzing of his phone beside him is a part of his dream. But even as his dream fades from one scene into another, the constant humming doesn’t seem to cease. Plus, he’s having rather pleasant dreams, and the buzzing is becoming more and more unnerving and annoying. His sleep-addled brain registers that it doesn’t quite fit in with the calm images of him and Clarke and a small curly-haired blond toddler by the beach. 

He opens his eyes one at a time and rubs the sleep from them as he registers that his cell phone screen is in fact lit up with incoming messages. He props himself up on his elbow and pulls the phone from its charger. The messages, all seven of them, are from his best friend.

 

**[Clarke] 1:12 AM**

Hey, are you up? If not, can you wake up? I need some help.

**[Clarke] 1:14 AM**

Come on, Bellamy. Please wake up.

**[Clarke] 1:15 AM**

Bellamy

**[Clarke] 1:15 AM**

Bellamy bellamy bellamy BELLAMY

**[Clarke] 1:16 AM**

I know you said that I shouldn’t volunteer to babysit Carla, but Raven and Wells didn’t have anyone and you know how important this conference is to them, and I know I said that I wouldn’t need help, but I do

**[Clarke] 1:18 AM**

Bellamy please. She won’t stop crying and I don’t know what to do

**[Clarke] 1:25 AM**

BELLAMY BRADBURY BLAKE WAKE UPPPPPPP!

 

He can’t help the small smile that breaks across his face as he reads her messages one by one. Clarke had been too stubborn to let him help her take care of the thirteen month-old baby, insisting that she was an adult just like the rest of them, and it couldn’t be any worse than letting someone like  _ Jasper _ watch her, so he’d agreed that she could do it all on her own, knowing that he’d be there to help her out the moment she asked.

He calls her after clearing the sleep from his voice as best as he can. She answers on the second ring.

“Shit,” she swears. “I didn’t have my ringer off, and she was just starting to calm down. Fuck.”

“Don’t swear in front of the baby, Clarke,” he chastises, though even he can hear the laughter in his own voice. “You know, not all of us have babies. Some of us sleep through the night, and that’s just how it is. You don’t have to wake everyone up to share in your misery.”

“Cute, jackass,” she deadpans.

“What did I just say about swearing in front of babies? Well, it was nice chatting with you, but if you’ve got nothing nice to say, this jackass is going back to bed. Goodnight, Clarke!”

“No, no, no!” she shouts as the wailing in the background gets worse. “I’m sorry! I take it back! Please help me!”

He can’t help but be smug. “I thought you could handle this all by yourself? Did you try texting Jasper to come help you out?”

There’s a click, and then the line goes dead. His phone rings a minute later, and he answers it without bothering with a hello.

“Are you done gloating yet?” Clarke asks, no amusement in her voice.

“Yeah, I guess so. What’s up?”

“She won’t stop crying no matter what I do!” Clarke says, exasperated. I’ve tried snacks, I’ve tried milk, I read the book Raven left for us, I tried singing lullabies, I’ve tried rocking her, and nothing works!”

Bellamy’s loud, deep laugh interrupts her. “You were singing to her? No wonder she’s crying.”

“Bellamy!” Clarke says, and he can see in his mind the exact face she’s making as she throws her hand up, completely done with listening to his nonsense. **“** Stop laughing at me, and tell me what to do!”

“Do you want me to come over and help?” he asks.

He almost falls asleep waiting for her answer, but it finally comes through the silence between them as she sighs.

“Fine,” she grumbles. “But I’m not admitting that you were right.”

* * *

 

He gets dressed in an old pair of sweatpants and a crewneck university sweater before making the fifteen minute drive to Raven and Wells’ apartment across town. Clarke buzzes him in, and when he opens the door, he finds her standing in the middle of the living room, cradling and bouncing the infant, gently rubbing her back in an attempt to sooth her. Clara isn’t crying anymore, but the look Clarke gives him indicates that it hasn’t been this way for long.

Bellamy shuts the door quietly behind him and toes off his shoes before walking over to Clarke.

“Everything okay?” he whispers, barely making a sound.

Clarke nods. “She just settled down. I guess she got tired of crying?” Her laugh is almost imperceptible as she tries to keep the baby steady. “I don’t want to put her down yet, though. Every time I try, she starts again.”

“Have you tried just staying on the couch with her until she really falls asleep?”

Clarke looks up at him as though she hadn’t considered this. “What, just like, let her use me as a bed?”

“Yeah, and then put her in her crib once she’s sleeping soundly. Come on,” he says, “we can watch a movie or something.”

“That won’t keep her awake?” Clarke asks.

“Nah, come on.” 

Bellamy’s not ready to leave, especially not now that he’s seen Clarke with a child in her arms. It stirs something warm in his belly, something he’s not ready to think about, in part because she’s his best friend, and in part because he knows that she doesn’t feel the same way about him. 

He sits down on the couch and let’s Clarke settle against him, showing her how to hold Carla the way he used to hold Octavia when she was being fussy and wouldn’t sleep. Bellamy watches as Clarke gently brushes the hair out of Carla’s face with a barely-there brush of a finger, and he tries to ignore the way his heart tightens at the picture before him: a family that could be if he was just brave enough to let it happen.

“What do you want to watch?” he asks instead of saying something he’ll later regret.

“You pick,” Clarke says as she settles more comfortably into him.

His arm wraps around the blonde, and his hand comes to rest beside hers on the baby’s back. To his surprise, she slides her hand over to his and winds her fingers through his. Bellamy desperately tries to ignore the way his heart stutters and selects the first movie he sees in Raven’s Netflix queue: some Nicholas Sparks flick of all things.

Somewhere in the middle of the  _ then vs. now  _ plot line, he listens as Clarke’s breathing gets slower, deeper, and it nearly lulls him to sleep, too. 

“Clarke,” he whispers in her ear as he tries to slide himself out from under her.

“No,” she mumbles. “Stay. Don’t go.”

“I’m not going,” he assures her. “Let’s just go put Carla to bed.”

“Okay,” she says sleepily, but other than taking her weight off of him, she doesn’t move.

Bellamy smiles and shakes his head as he settles her back against the couch and takes the sleeping child from her arms. Clarke makes a happy noise and smiles. He’s walking away when he thinks he hears her say something, but it must just be the sleep getting to him, because Clarke doesn’t tell him that she loves him.

He lays Carla down on her back and tucks her quilt around her. When he straightens back up, Clarke is standing in the doorway, her hair mussed and eyes still filled with sleep. Bellamy smiles fondly when she pads quietly into the room to stand beside him. She tucks herself under Bellamy’s arm, against his side, and hums contentedly.

“Thanks for helping,” she whispers.

“I hardly did anything.”

“I know, but I stopped freaking out when I knew you were coming over, and that’s when Carla calmed down. I need you.”

He laughs and ducks his head down to hers. “Stop being a drama queen.”

Clarke pulls back to look him in the eyes. “It’s true. You’re my best friend, Bell.” Bellamy reaches his free hand up and slides it into Clarke’s hair. She closes her eyes and leans into the touch. “Bellamy,” she breathes.

He leans down and presses his mouth gently to hers. She doesn’t pull back, but rather melts into him, her mouth going soft and supple under his. When he breaks the kiss, she has a devious smile on her face. 

“Not in here,” she whispers, fisting her hand into the front of his shirt and pulling him out of Carla’s nursery, carefully closing the door behind them after grabbing the baby monitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you'd like your own countdown fic, come prompt me on [Tumblr](https://youleftme-clarke.tumblr.com/ask)!


	4. Another Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been more than six years since Bellamy and Clarke have seen each other, and even if they're back together, sometimes it's hard to tell dream from reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated more M than T with a bit of a sex scene. If that's not your thing, then skip ahead.
> 
> No prompt, just my take on a romantic Bellarke season 5 reunion.

Clarke startles awake, throwing the furs off of her body and sitting up. Her chest heaves with exertion as she tries to catch her breath. She’s still in the rover. Everything is fine. Bellamy is by her side in an instant, hand firm on her back as he reassures her of his presence. 

“You okay?” he asks as she brushes her hair back from her face. 

“Yeah,” she pants. “Fine. Just-”

“Another nightmare?”

“Another nightmare,” she confirms, closing her eyes and letting her head fall.

Bellamy slides in beside her and pulls her to his chest. “I’m here.”

“I know you’re here. That’s how I know the nightmares aren’t real.”

He kisses the crown of her head and holds her tight as she catches her breath. “Did you get them a lot while you were alone?”

“Every night. Some nights, I’d stay awake just so that I wouldn’t have to face them. I used to tell you about them, when I called you over the radio. I’d hope you could hear the stories and tell me to stop being so scared, and that you were okay. And then Madi came along, and keeping her alive was like a full-time job, so I’d be so tired when I slept that on some nights, the dreams wouldn’t come.”

“But now I’m back,” he says, stroking her face like he’s taken to doing, as though convincing himself that she truly is there. “You don’t have to be scared anymore. You’re not alone, anymore.”

“I know,” she says, and tips her head back to capture his mouth in a kiss.

It’s slow, and sweet, and gentle. Clarke lets her hands slide into Bellamy’s messy curls, lets them roam over his shoulders and down his back as he lays her down and crowds into the space above her, pressing their bodies together. She grips tightly to his shoulders, him to her hips, as neither wants to let the other go, too afraid of what will happen if they’re too far apart. Bellamy kisses down to her jaw, her neck, and back up to her ear.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he tells her as his hand slides up under her shirt to rest of her ribcage, feel the steady beating of her heart.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” she says against his lips when she pulls him down for another kiss. 

They’ve had this conversation a hundred times since reuniting less than a week ago, but it all still feels so surreal. Clarke needs to convince herself that she isn’t dreaming, that after six long years, this Bellamy that she holds in her arms isn’t just a figment of her imagination anymore, but the real thing. 

“I’m here,” he tells her as he slips her shirt over her head, lets his hands slide down the wide expanse of pale skin before him as Clarke fumbles with his belt buckle. 

She pulls his belt free of its loops, pops open the snap on the front of his pants, and lets him situate himself between her legs. Bellamy kisses her stomach, works his way up her body, leaving evidence of his existence with gentle kisses and searing bruises and sharp flashes of teeth. He eventually reaches her mouth again, begs it open with a slide of his tongue along the seam of her lips, and swallows the taste of her as she slides her nails up his back. 

“You’re here,” she says between kisses, unsure of whether she’s telling him or herself. 

He slides his hand down between them, pushes her panties aside, and glides his fingers over her very center. “Right here,” he tells her.

Clarke throws her head back as he circles her clit with gentle fingers, pressing down hard on it when she starts to get worked up. “Oh, God, right there,” she gasps.

Bellamy works his fingers over her most intimate places, memorizes how she feels and smells and tastes so he’ll never forget again as he brings her to think brink of her orgasm. Clarke writhes and pants beneathe him, begging him for more, so he gives it to her, let’s her orgasm come as he kisses away the sounds she makes, feels her clench down on his fingers as though she’s never letting him go. 

He makes love to her gently that night, time and time again, until he’s certain that he’s got every aspect of her memorized, until the sound of her voice calling his name is all he can hear, until he sees only her face when he closes his eyes, until she tells him that she’s tired enough to sleep soundly. He tangles their bodies together, wraps his arms tightly around her and holds her against his chest. He promises he’ll never leave, promises to protect her and keep her safe, promises to keep the nightmares away. 

She kisses his lips, a sleepy, sated smile across her own, and tells him that she couldn’t ask for anything more, and falls asleep to the steady sound of his heart, really, truly, Bellamy’s heart, beating behind her.


	5. Five More Minutes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy decides to take a mental health day after another fight with his sister. Clarke might have just the right words to make him feel better, though.
> 
> Or, the one where Clarke admits how she really feels about Bellamy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on the anon tumblr prompt: Bellarke value me. a drabble about one character telling another how they feel about them.
> 
> 86 days until Season 5

Clarke knocks on her roommate’s door softly. Bellamy makes a noncommittal sound from within his bedroom which she takes as an invitation to come inside. She pushes the door open slowly and peeks into Bellamy’s room. His curtains are still drawn, leaving the room in near total darkness despite it being almost nine in the morning.

“Hey, sleepy, you going to work today? You’re gonna be late,” she says.

The giant mound of blankets in the middle of the bed which she assumes is Bellamy grunts and shifts a little. Clarke walks further into the room and perches herself on the edge of the bed.

“Is that a no?” 

Bellamy tosses some blankets aside and rolls onto his back to look at her. His hair is a tangle of messy curls and dark circles are prominent under his eyes.

“I’m taking a mental health day,” he mumbles.

She reaches forward to brush his hair off of his forehead. “You okay?”

He closes his eyes. “Will be, if you keep doing that.”

Clarke chuckles. She’s always loved this affectionate version of Bellamy, when it’s just the two of them and he lets his guard down. “Move over,” she says, shoving him softly to the further side of the bed and sliding under the covers next to him. “I don’t have to be at work for another hour or so.”

He hums happily and throws his arm over her waist, pulling her against his chest, and Clarke tries as hard as she can to ignore how broad and firm he is, and how he’s not wearing a shirt. She shouldn’t be thinking about how she’d like to wake up like this, or how it would feel to crawl into bed after a long shift and be greeted by Bellamy with open arms, ready to snuggle away the challenges of the day. She can feel his breath against the back of her neck, and it’s nearly impossible not to shiver. 

“Wanna talk about why you’re taking a mental health day?”

Bellamy grumbles. “Do we have to? Just sleep.”

Clarke rolls onto her back to look at him, a mistake, she realizes, once she notices how close their faces are. She closes her eyes and forces herself to concentrate. “Yes. If something’s bothering you, Bell, I want to help.”

“Maybe I just don’t feel like going to work today,” he says with his eyes still closed, and snuggles further against her neck. “Sleep.”

“If you just didn’t want to go to work, you wouldn't have called it a mental health day. Is it Octavia?”

“Clarke,” he sighs, pulling back to finally look at her.

“So it is about Octavia. What happened?”

“The same as usual,” Bellamy says sadly. 

Clarke turns onto her side so that they’re pressed almost chest to chest, making it easy for her to reach up and run her fingers through his hair. It’s a comforting gesture that she’s become privy to after years of close friendship. He leans into her touch and sighs sadly.

“What happened?” Clarke asks again, softly.

“We got into another ridiculous fight,” he says. “I know she’s been in a rough place in Lincoln died, and I know that anger is a part of the grieving process. I just wish she’d let me help her instead of lashing out at me.”

“It’s not fair that she puts you through this.”

“I know, but I’m her brother. If she needs to be angry at someone, I’d rather it be me. That way, when she’s done, she’ll still have me here for her. I wouldn’t want her to lose Lincoln and then lose another friend in the process of coming to terms with what happened.”

Clarke’s fingers still move gently through Bellamy’s thick hair, and she scoots closer to him so that the words she’s preparing to say are just between them. Even if the apartment is otherwise empty, and they’re the only two people in the room, she wants him to know that this is just between them.

“I know that she’ll come around eventually, and she’ll realize how special you are,” Clarke says, voice barely above a whisper, “but I also know that it sucks for you right now to have to go through this. I know that you know that I’m here, but you should also know that you’re such a great person, Bellamy. You’ve got such a big heart, and you love so much. It’s probably one of my favorite things about you.”

“One of them, eh?” Bellamy says with a smile, his eyes on hers, and her hand stills. 

She brings her hand down between them and lays it on his heart, not looking away from his eyes as it beats steadily beneath her palm. “Do you not know how incredible you are? You’re such a great teacher. You’re so patient and kind with the kids, and you love each and every one of them, even though you complain about some of them sometimes. You’re funny and sweet and caring, and you’d do anything for your friends. You’re so important to all of us, Bell, and I know that what you’re going through with O right now isn’t the easiest, but don’t forget that there are still so many others who love you more than you can imagine.”

Bellamy reaches out and traces the shape of her jaw with his index finger. “Clarke,” he whispers. 

“Yeah?” she says, swallowing around the lump that’s formed in her throat at the realization of just how deep her feelings for her roommate run.

“Thanks,” he says, cupping her cheek and inching his face closer to hers. “Is this-” he tries, but then stops. Instead, he quickly closes the distance between them and presses a hurried kiss to her mouth. “Is this okay?”

She smiles lazily. “More than okay,” she assures him, pulling his forward for a slower, more languid kiss.

“Call in sick?” he asks when they pull apart.

“Nice try,” she laughs. “I have to finish this project.” Clarke pulls him against her and tucks her head under his chin, presses a soft kiss to his shoulder. “Five more minutes won’t hurt, though.” 


	6. Happy People Just Don't Kill Their Husbands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellarke meets Legally Blonde

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the lovely [@bentylercooks](http://bentylercooks.tumblr.com/)

Bellamy sees Clarke walk out of the elevator. He smiles at her, something he’s found himself doing more often whenever she’s around.

“Hey,” he says easily, but she brushes past him.

“I’m quitting,” she says dejectedly, her heels clicking on the marble floor as she walks towards the front doors of the law office. 

Bellamy reaches out of take her wrist. She stops and turns to face him.

“Why?” he asks, his heart sinking.

Clarke shakes her head, her blonde hair swaying this way and that. “Law school was a mistake,” she says angrily, her hands coming up and then dropping back down as though she’s got too much energy than she knows how to handle. “This whole internship was a mistake!”

“What are you talking about? You earned it!” he says earnestly, thinking back to the spunky sorority girl he’d met in the Harvard courtyard back in September. 

“I didn’t earn anything, Bellamy!” she says, taking him aback.

Once Clarke had dedicated herself to becoming the best in her class, he’d seen her grow into this fierce, empowering women who wasn’t going to let anything get in her way. She’d been his first choice the moment Cage Wallace had asked for his opinion on which students to take on as interns. She’s already proven her worth just by her behavior during this murder trial alone. If anyone deserved the internship position with Wallace’s firm, it was her. Raven was good, but she didn’t have guts, not like Clarke did, and Finn would never be able to defend a murder suspect even if he’d seen someone else kill the victim with his own two eyes.

She sighs. “Wallace only gave me that internship because he liked the way I look, which he made clear tonight when he tried to feel me up.”

Rage makes Bellamy’s blood boil. His hands curl into fists at his sides. “Wallace did what?” he asks through clenched teeth, ready to knock the smirk off of Cage Wallace’s face for even thinking that he could hurt Clarke like that.

Clarke closes her eyes and shakes her head, sad and withdrawn. “Forget it,” she sniffs. “I’m going back to LA. No more boring suits, no more pantyhose, no more trying to be something that I… I’m just  _ not _ .”

His heart rate picks up at the thought of never seeing this beautiful, intelligent woman again. “What if you’re trying to be something you  _ are _ ?” he tries to reason. “I mean, the hell with Wallace. Stay.” He tries to keep the pleading tone out of his voice, but he’s sure that no matter what, he still sounds as desperate as he feels. 

She looks at him sadly. “Call me if you’re ever in California, okay?” she says, her entire demeanor withdrawn. 

Bellamy watches her walk out the door and tries to ignore the way his heart painfully tightens in his chest. He can’t help but think that watching her walk away from him will be a mistake that he regrets for a long time. Women like Clarke don’t come around often, and now he’s afraid that he’s lost her all because Cage Wallace couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

* * *

 

Bellamy shakes his head in disgust as he turns down the volume on the television and walks away from Wallace’s smug face behind dozens of reporters and microphones. He goes back to take his seat next to Raven, who’s stepped up a lot since Clarke decided to leave. 

Their client, Niylah, shakes her head. “God, is he always such an ass?” she asks disdainfully. 

Bellamy smirks, his only defense against the comments trying to claw their way out of his mouth. “He’s the top defense attorney in the state. Of course he’s an ass.”

“Fine,” Niylah snaps back. “But is he an ass that’s gonna win my case?”

Bellamy shrugs. “Well, he’s an ass that’s gonna try.”

Niylah looks unamused. She raises an eyebrow in challenge. “He thinks I’m guilty, doesn’t he?”

“That’s not what’s important,” Bellamy says, because he knows that Cage Wallace would defend even the worst criminal if they signed over a large enough paycheck.

“If he doesn’t trust me, why should I trust him?” his client demands.

“Ask Clarke,” Raven says with a smirk. “She looked pretty cozy with him last night.”

Bellamy whips his head around to face her. “You don’t even know what the hell you’re talking about,” he tells her in a terse whisper.

Raven wants to look away, an obvious look of guilt and shock at his reaction clear on her face. Niylah looks between the two of them.

“What’s going on here?” the convict asks.

“Clarke quit,” Bellamy says matter-of-factly.

“What?” Niylah gasps.

“Yeah,” Bellamy says, and even to himself he sound unimpressed. “Wallace hit on her, so she quit.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Raven’s shoulders slump as she looks down. 

“Oh, my God,” Niylah says, shaking her head. “What a scumbag.”

“Oh, God,” Raven says. She looks like she wants to throw up.

“What?” Niylah asks, turning to face the young intern.

“I feel terrible. I made a  _ huge _ mistake.”

She looks over at Bellamy, and he meets her eyes for a moment as his thoughts begin to churn. 

“Well,” he says with a determine grin. “Maybe there’s something we can do about it.”

* * *

 

In court the next day, Bellamy sits second chair next to Cage Wallace and watches as Niylah is escorted into the courtroom by a bailiff. She’s grinning like the cat who finally got the cream. She stops at the edge of the defense table, and Bellamy shuffles through his papers as he tries to keep his face neutral.

“What are you so happy about?” Cage asks, not even bothering to dignify her with a glance. “You’re on trial for murder.”

“Get up,” she says, her voice begging him to challenge her.

Cage slowly looks up from the file he’s reading. “What?”

“You’re fired. I have new representation,” Niylah says with a grin. 

“Who?” he asks, slamming the file down.

The entire courtroom turns in their seats to look as the doors to the courtroom open, revealing a confident, stunning Clarke Griffin, her blonde curls perfectly framing her face, dressed in a professional, albeit pink, dress, followed in by a bustling Monty Green. Her smile is radiant as she walks down the center aisle, only to stop beside Cage Wallace’s chair. Bellamy’s heart is beating a thousand miles a minutes as he watches the whole display, pride seeping out of his every pore.

“Excuse you,” she says to Cage without even missing a beat. “You’re in my way.”

“She’s a law student. She can’t defend you,” Cage tells Niylah with finality.

Clarke clears her throat and turns to Monty. He leans towards Cage, a textbook open. “Uh, Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court ruling three-point-zero-three,” he says, pointing to a line in the texts.

“See?” she says smugly, thrusting the book closer to his face. “Thank you, Monty.” 

Bellamy just wants to kiss her. This is the woman he’s found himself unexpectedly falling for, not the small, fragile woman who retreated from the law office because she’d lost all faith in her abilities.

“Counsellors, approach the bench,” the judge says, not a hint of patience in her voice.

Clarke turns. 

“You’re not going up there,” Cage scoffs before she even takes a step.

“Oh, yes I am,” she says, leaving no room for challenge.

“I’m sorry, maybe you didn’t hear me,” Niylah says. “ _ You’re. Fired _ .”

“Counsellors,” the judge snaps. “Now. All of you.”

Bellamy, Clarke, and Cage, along with the Assistant District Attorney all walk up to the bench, Cage seething, looking ready to hit something. 

“Clarke Griffin, Your Honour,” Clarke says. “Ruling 3.03 states that a law student may appear on behalf of the defendant in criminal proceedings.”

“I’m not allowing it,” Cage snaps.

“Oh, but you agreed last night, remember?” Clarke says, turning to him. Bellamy feels all the air get sucked out of his lungs as he tries so hard not to cackle. “In your office?” she prompts. “When we were discussing my career?”

“The ruling also states that you need a licensed attorney to supervise you,” the judge says sympathetically. “Mr. Wallace?”

“That I won’t agree to.”

But it’s already not a problem. “I’ll supervise, Your Honour,” Bellamy says, placing a reassuring hand to Clarke’s back. Cage turns to glare at him, and Bellamy only shrugs.

“Well then, Ms. Griffin, proceed.”

“Thank you, Your Honour,” Clarke says with a smile.

“You do realize what you’re doing right?” the judge asks Niylah.

“Absolutely,” she says with a confident smile.

“Enjoy prison,” Cage scoffs in her direction as he walks by.

 

Bellamy watches, nearly as nervous as Clarke, as she begins examining witnesses. He sees her go from shakey and unsure of herself to someone who is more and more confident as each question is asked and answered. He watches with pride, barely needing to guide her, as she’s knocked down by the judge, the witnesses, and the prosecutors, but continues to get back up until she’s on such a role that the witness gets tongue tied and confesses to the murder for which her mother is accused. 

Once the witness is remanded and the defendant cleared and released, the trial is over, and Clarke’s won her first high-profile murder case two years before she’s even set to graduate from Harvard. It takes everything Bellamy has to not sweep her off her feet in celebration. Instead, he waits until all the excitement dies down and catches up with her on the courthouse steps.

“You did incredible in there,” he tells her.

Her eyes are soft when she looks at him. “I couldn’t have done it without you. Thanks, Bellamy.”

“That was all you, Clarke. You did that all by yourself. You’re going to make an amazing lawyer,” he says, and it’s the truth.

“Only because an amazing friend asked me to stay and not go back to LA when things got rough.”

She looks at him, and before he has time to say anything, she’s stepped forward and pulled him into a hug. He wraps his arms tightly around her and tries not to marvel at the way with which she fits so well against him. 

He waits until she pulls away to ask, “Do you want to… Will you, uh… have dinner with me?” he manages to spit out, never knowing a single person could make him so nervous.

“You free right now?” she asks, weaving her fingers through his and pulling him towards the downtown strip.

* * *

“I can’t even begin to tell you how proud I am of you, Clarke,” he says as they stand at the entrance to her dorm. Bellamy steps forward and brushes a strand of hair away from her face. “I know I keep saying it, but I’m just seriously amazed by everything that I’ve seen you do since your first weeks here. How are you the whole package?” he asks quietly, his hand still lingering by her cheek.

Clarke bites her lower lip and looks down. Despite the ten o’clock dark of night, he spies a blush creeping up her cheeks. 

“I’m serious, Clarke. You’re incredible.”

She leans into his touch. “I really only did it because you believed in me. My parents didn’t think I could do something as serious as law school, my boyfriend didn’t think I was smart enough to get in, no one took me seriously when I started, but you were always there. You helped me and listened and believed in me, no matter what.” She pauses. “You’re the one who asked me to stay when I was ready to throw it all away.”

“You know that Finn’s a joke. No one on Niylah’s defense team took him seriously. And Cage Wallace is a jackass. He never should have done what he did to you. I’m glad I ran into you that night. I don’t know if I could have taken it if you’d just left without telling me why.”

“I don’t think I could have left without telling you goodbye,” she says so quietly that he barely hears it.

Before Bellamy can add any more, Clarke closes the already miniscule gap between them and presses her lips softly to his. Bellamy’s head swims as he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her against him, chasing her lips when she pulls away for a breath.

“I’m glad you stayed,” he whispers as he presses another kiss to her temple.

“I’m glad I did, too.”


	7. Death of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the tumblr prompts _“Would you warm me up?”, “All I want is you.” & “If I kiss you right now, I won’t be able to stop.” ___

“Hey, Princess,” Bellamy says with a smile as she sidles up to him. He takes a drink of his beer to distract himself from the way his best friend’s cheeks are flushed pink from the cold of the early spring air. “What are you up to?”

“Your sister wants to play spin the bottle, but I don’t know if I’m drunk enough for that yet,” Clarke says as she rolls her eyes at Octavia’s antics. 

Bellamy’s heart tightens. Octavia always wants to play spin the bottle when she’s drunk, and every time, he lets himself get talked into joining the group in the hopes that he’ll get to kiss Clarke, if only just to torture himself more by finding out what he’ll never be able to have. But instead, every time they play, it’s the same thing: Bellamy stands around laughing at joking with his friends as he watches the girl that doesn’t love him back kiss anyone in the room except for him. Luck’s never been on his side where spin the bottle is concerned.

“Mind if I sit this one out?” he asks, because at least if he’s not there, he doesn’t have to watch Finn try to slide his tongue into her mouth again.

Clarke knocks her shoulder against his. “You’re so boring,” she sighs dramatically.

He laughs. “I’m not boring, I just don’t think I can handle Murphy grabbing my ass and making out with me again.”

“I think you secretly like Murphy grabbing your ass,” she says in a mock whisper.

“Where’s your drink?” he asks, changing the subject before he makes a stupid comment. “It’s after midnight. You should be drinking something.”

“I have to work tomorrow, so I’m sticking to only a couple beers.”

“Now who’s boring?” he asks, leaning in to bury his nose in her hair as she tucks herself against him.

“Would you warm me up, Bell? I’m freezing.”

“You knew this party was going to be outside. And I told you to bring a jacket.” But even though he’s smugly rubbing her bad decisions into her face, he wraps his arms around her tightly and pulls her against his chest. 

“You don’t have to gloat, Bellamy,” she says matter-of-factly as she tightens her hold on him. He hopes she can’t feel how quickly his heart is beating.

“Clarke! Bellamy! Come join us!” Octavia calls from the patio table. 

“Your brother doesn’t want to!” Clarke shouts back across the yard. She tips her head up to look at him, her chin on his chest, and it would be so easy to lean down and just kiss her, but she’s the best friend he’s ever had, and he can’t risk ruining that. “You sure you don’t want to join?”

He lays a quick kiss on her forehead, because he might be strong, but not invincible. She hums contentedly and closes her eyes. “I’m good here, Princess. You can go if you want.”

Raven wolf-whistles so loud she can be heard in the next town over. “Looks like they finally got their shit together and realized that they don’t need to keep making out with the rest of us just because they want to kiss each other!”

Everyone at the table laughs. Bellamy groans and shuts his eyes, tipping his head back in frustration. He doesn’t want to look at Clarke, doesn’t want to see her get ready to let him down easy. 

But never let it be said that Bellamy Blake always gets what he wants. “Bell?” Clarke asks quietly.

He looks down at her and her eyes are wide as she searches his face for something he can’t quite figure out. Finally, she sighs and lays her head on his chest. “You’re still sober, right? I should probably head home. I’m freezing, and I really do have to be up early. Can you drop me off?”

He can’t see her face, which means that there’s no way for her to see the hurt flash across his. “Sure, Princess.” He doesn’t even finish his beer before putting it down and walking over to the patio to say bye to their friends. 

 

Clarke is quiet on the drive home. She looks out the window, her body turned away from him, and he wants to reach out and take her hand and ask her what’s wrong, but he stops himself. He knows her well enough to know that when she’s quiet like this, she has something on her mind, and he needs to let her work it out on her own. She doesn’t change when he pulls his car in front of her building. 

“We’re, uh, we’re here, Clarke,” he says, shifting into park to turn in his seat and face her. 

She turns to him and blinks a few times before smiling sweetly at him. It’s not what he expected, and he tries to ignore to way his heart races when that smile is for him, and him alone. 

“Do you want to come up for a bit?” she asks, her voice a mere whisper. 

“Don’t you have to be up early?” he asks, because if he goes upstairs with her, he knows how much he’s going to have to struggle to not admit his feelings.

Her smile brightens. “There’s a difference between staying at a party or just spending time with you. Come on,” she says, suddenly looking uncertain as she nods her head towards the apartment building.

Bellamy lets himself return her smile, ignoring the voice inside his head screaming at him to just go home because she’s his best friend, and he’s weak, and all he wants to do is hold her in his arms and kiss her. He parks the car, and when Clarke meets him to walk inside, she slides her small hand into his and laces their fingers together. Bellamy’s heart nearly stops. When she looks up at him, as though asking if this is okay, she squeezes her hand reassuringly and leans against him.

She’s still quiet when they make it up to her unit, and Bellamy can hardly contain his nerves once she’s closed the door shut behind them.

“Clarke,” he says at the same time as she says, “Bell.”

He chuckles softly. “You first,” he says, following her into her kitchen.

She stops in her tracks in front of the fridge and turns on her heel to face him. “What did Raven mean by what she said at the party?”

Bellamy’s eyes are closed as he exhales slowly through his nose and runs a hand through his hair. “Clarke…”

When he opens his eyes, she’s standing there, right in front of him, hands halfway to his shoulders. Her eyes are wide, searching his, and he wants to reach out, to pull her in, and show her just what Raven was talking about. He lets one of his hands sit on her hip instead.

“Tell me,” she asks again.

When he can’t make himself answer, she presses up on the tips of her toes and chases his lips. Bellamy holds her back. Her eyes go wide with shock.

“I’m sorry,” she sputters. “I didn’t mean to--”

He cuts her off, his hands still on her hips. “No, Clarke, it’s not…” He laughs, shaking his head as he leans his forehead against hers.

“Don’t laugh at me, jerk,” Clarke says, swattin at his chest.

He only pulls her closer, and her breath hitches. “Bell?”

“Clarke, all I want is you. You’ve got to know that. If I… If I kiss you right now, I’m not going to be able to stop.”

She beams, her face glowing. “Then kiss me, you idiot.”

Bellamy doesn’t need to be told twice. He leans down and touches his lips to hers, barely there, waiting for her to react. Clarke opens her mouth to him, eagerly chases his kiss, and he wraps his arms around her middle to life him off the floor and flush against him. 

“Clarke,” he whispers against her mouth. 

She makes a desperate, needy sound, her lips moving to his jaw, pressing butterfly kisses up to his ear and down his neck. He groans and lifts her up onto the counter, stepping between her thighs. Clarke wraps her legs around his waist, her hands tangling in his hair. 

“Princess,” he tries again, pulling away from her as the both gasp for breath. 

Her eyes are still closed and she leans in, her mouth hovering just over his. “What happened to not being able to stop?”

He laughs and gives her a quick kiss. “What happened to you having to be up early?”

He traces his hand up and down her back, and she shivers. Clarke tucks herself against him, still refusing to unwrap her legs from around his waist. “Don’t have to wake up early if I don’t sleep,” she mumbles against his shoulder. 

“Say that again?” he asks, brushing her hair back behind her ear. 

“I said, I don’t have to wake up early if I don’t go to sleep.” She grins up at him, and he takes it all in: her disheveled hair, her swollen, red lips, her eyes and their ocean blue being overcome by the black of her irises. 

“You’re going to be the death of me, Griffin,” he says, trying to kiss her quiet as she laughs against his mouth. 

“Stay the night,” she says as he kisses her neck and mouths at her pulse point. 

He chuckles against her skin. “You sure?”

“You don’t get to be the only one to admit how long he’s been in love.”

He snaps his head up and meets her eyes. “You…”

“I love you,” she whispers, her hands brushing his hair back from his forehead. 

He laughs, too happy to contain the sound. His hands slide under her thighs as he lifts her off the counter and down the hall to her room. She bounces once when he drops her onto her back and crowds over her. He takes her hand and kisses her palm. “I love you, too, Princess.”

“Good,” she says, pulling him to the top of the bed. 

He smiles and shakes his head, leaning down to kiss her deeply, swallowing her gasp. “Death of me,” he mutters. 


	8. You Awake?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Clarke falls asleep on Bellamy's couch and wakes up in his bed. Fluffy Bellarke pining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [@atlasbellamy](https://atlasbellamy.tumblr.com/)

“Blake,” Miller says pulling the jug of water out of the fridge, “your girl’s asleep on the couch.”

“She has a name, you know,” Bellamy mumbles, ignoring the heat that coils low in his belly at the possessive term Miller had used. Clarke was his friend, and that was all. Even if Miller loved mocking him about his crush on her, Clarke isn’t his  _ anything _ .

“Right, sorry. Your Clarke is asleep on the couch.” 

Bellamy shoots him a glare and Miller laughs. 

“Just leave her there. She’s spent the night on our couch before,” Bellamy says.

“Yeah,” says Monty as he strolls into the kitchen, knowing exactly what he’s walked into. “Except Jasper’s staying for the weekend, remember? And I’ve already promised him the couch. But I’m sure he doesn’t want to inconvenience anyone, so if we just tell him Clarke needs a place to sleep, he won’t mind sharing your bed,” he says innocently.

“Fuck both of you,” Bellamy grumbles.

Miller and his boyfriend grin at each other and exchange high-fives as Bellamy sighs and walks to the living room. 

“You’ll thank us one day,” Miller calls.

“Doubtful,” Bellamy answers with a roll of his eyes before crouching down in front of Clarke. “Hey, Princess,” he says, shaking her shoulder gently, “time for bed.”

Clarke mumbles incoherently before rolling onto her other side and Bellamy smiles fondly. “‘M comfy, Bell,” she says sleepily into the couch cushion.

“You’ll be comfier in bed. Come on.”

Clarke doesn’t answer him, her breath coming out in soft, even puffs, and he can only conclude that she’s fallen back asleep. 

“Damn, Princess,” he says, scooping her up easily. “Always gotta make things difficult.”

She curls into him, her head against his shoulder and sighs happily, a sound that makes his heart clench painfully. He doesn’t need Clarke’s happy, relaxed noises ingrained in his memories forever. It’s already hard enough to see her everyday and not kiss her that he doesn’t think he can handle her being this soft too often. Miller and Monty wolf whistle as he carries her past the kitchen and to his room. He sends them a look that quiets them, thankfully, before they wake Clarke.

He shifts her weight so he can push the blankets aside before laying her down on his pillow. He thanks whoever is up there listening to him that Clarke had worn sweatpants when she’d come over, and he thankfully doesn’t have to worry about having to change her into something more comfortable. He slips her cardigan off her shoulders, leaving her in her tank top, knowing Miller always keeps the apartment uncomfortably warm whenever he’s home, and tosses it onto his desk chair behind him. 

He goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth and change into a pair of plaid pajama pants. The time away does little to help him collect himself. Clarke’s spent the night at their apartment before, but never in his bed. And seeing Clarke, sleep tousled and comfortable in a space that is so very much  _ his _ is a lot to take in. When he walks back into the hallway, Monty is just slipping out of Miller’s room. Without his boyfriend next to him, Monty looks a little sheepish. 

“Sorry about that,” he whispers. 

Bellamy shrugs. Clarke’s already in his room. The hard part is mostly over. “S’okay.”

“You know she likes you, too, right?” Monty says. 

Bellamy sighs, because he can’t let himself hope like that. “Thanks, Monty. Bathroom’s free if you need it.”

“Night, Bellamy,” he says, and Bellamy nods before padding back to his bedroom. 

Clarke’s curled on her side in his bed, and Bellamy pauses to smile before turning off the light. Her blonde hair had been spread all over the pillow and had almost looked like a glowing halo. God, he was turning into such a sap. 

He carefully slips under the covers, staying close to the edge of the mattress and as far from Clarke as possible. He wants to pull her to him and wrap his arms around her, but she’s asleep, and he needs her to be awake to make the decision with him.

He can’t sleep, his body too full of nervous energy as he calculates every movement he makes, careful to give Clarke all the space and respect she needs. And it’s fine, it really is, until Clarke stirs and Bellamy holds his breath, afraid she’s waking up.

But she doesn’t, she just shifts closer to him and curls around him. Bellamy’s breath catches when she throws an arm over his chest, her leg hiking up to hook over his hips. She makes some indecipherable noise as she tucks her head into the side of his neck, and his heart hammers away in his chest. He doesn’t know what to do, faced with his very dreams come true but not wanting to do anything that would upset Clarke when she wakes up. He tries to shift her away, but she won’t budge, so he settles for scooting them away from the edge of the mattress. He huffs a sigh and wraps his arm around her back for the sake of comfort. If she’s upset in the morning, well, he can just tell her it happened in his sleep. 

After that, with Clarke’s slow breaths against his neck, it’s surprisingly easy to fall asleep.

* * *

 

He’s half awake the next morning when he feels Clarke stiffen. He’s curled around her, Clarke’s back to his chest, and his arms are wrapped around her waist. They must have shifted in their sleep because he would never hold her like this consciously. It’s everything he wants but won’t dare to dream he could have.

He keeps his breath even, slow, and waits to see how she’ll react. It’s half because he’s a coward, half because he wants as much of this as he can get, even if it’s only a few extra seconds. 

Except Clarke doesn’t pull away. Once she realizes where she is, she sighs and sinks back into his arms. He almost thinks that she might still be asleep, but he definitely heard her breath catch. He’s suddenly much more awake than a minute ago. Clarke wraps her arms over his and trails her fingers over his skin, sending a shiver down his spine. He bands his arms tighter around her on instinct. 

“You awake?” she mumbles sleepily.

“Yeah,” he says quietly, releasing her. “Sorry.”

She uses the space to turn around in his grasp instead of moving away like he’d thought she would. She looks up at him with a smile that could light up the whole room.

“This is a nice way to wake up,” she says.

Bellamy’s face goes from pleasantly surprised to flirty and sure. “Yeah, I could get used to this.” He brushes his nose against hers.

Clarke tips her head back just an inch and catches his lips in a quick kiss. She pulls back quickly.

“This okay?” she asks, biting her lip.

“Oh, thank god,” Bellamy mutters before surging forward to kiss her in earnest, rolling her onto her back and hovering over her.

“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” Clarke says when Bellamy pulls back to catch his breath.

Her cheeks are flushed and lips red and swollen. She’s never looked more beautiful. “Yeah,” he admits. “We definitely should have done this sooner.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang out with me on [Tumblr!](https://youleftme-clarke.tumblr.com)


End file.
